the stars were dead
long before
we believed
they twinkled
for us alone
making wishes
on celestial death
so focused inward
that the gods we made
to justify
our own failings
had to be shadows
cast on the backwall
of this dilapidated
ouija board factory
we call
home sweet hell
That means fist bump, nothing more
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fist bump. i thought we were doing run the jewels. 👉🤛
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👉👌
I feel confused….
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i like yours better, sounds way better
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Yours looks painful
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hahahaha
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Home sweet hell 👊
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